All this distance taking it's toll
by akaJB
Summary: Was musing about the relationship Claire and Owen have, and it turned into this behemoth. Starts with their initial meeting pre JW and goes up through the start of JW:FK. Nothing you wouldn't know from watching the FK trailers. Title from Start Over by Imagine Dragons.


The moment Mills mentioned Blue, Claire knew she was going to be talking to Owen again. She consoled herself with the fact that she had her flight back to San Francisco followed by the almost three hour drive out to where he was building his cabin in the mountains to figure out what she was going to say.

The worst part of their breakup, wasn't the change in relationship (which sucked), but the loss of her best friend and confidant.

Her friendship with Owen was unexpected from the start. She knew neither of them had expected it and both had been surprised by it. But sometimes, you meet people in life you just _click_ with, and that's what happened.

In hindsight, she's sure it helped that when they first met, he thought she was married and she was too busy with work to be thinking or looking for a relationship. It meant that neither of them started with a focus or goal of a romantic relationship, and it allowed them to just naturally evolve their friendship.

The first time she met him, was when the IBRIS team was first brought to the island. At the time she was the Senior Assets Manager, and while she wouldn't be directly involved in the project, they _were_ assets and so it was important that she met the team and was kept up to date with what was happening. The raptors general needs (such as food and paddock requests) would still go through her. She hadn't really noticed him during that first meeting, but that was probably because she was being introduced to 10 different team members in a very quick meet and greet, and the bulk of her time was spent being introduced to Hoskins. No time to really get to know any of the others.

The second time she met him was at the Sunrio bar on Main Street. She knew she came across as uptight and a control freak (and she was, _is_ , both those things), but she got along well with her assistant Zara and after a really frustrating day of men refusing to take her seriously, the two of them had decided the evening called for drinks. And lots of them.

Sunrio was the best place to hide out, as it was dimly lit and crowded. Even though many of the patrons were employees (the rest were generally made up of tourists trying to escape their families), everyone was there with the specific intent of having a drink and generally ignoring everyone else. It was one of the few places at Jurassic World where she felt she could relax. The other places being her apartment and the her office when the door was closed.

She and Zara had arrived early enough to snag a booth in a back corner. It was admittedly larger than they needed, but it afforded them extra privacy, which was what they were looking for. "If they can't see you, they can't hit on you," as Zara liked to say when they went out after days like this. And after a day of being patronized too, the last thing either of them wanted was male attention. Especially male attention at a bar, where it was guaranteed to be served with a side of questionable pick up lines, wandering hands and an inability to understand the word 'no.' In fact, they'd taken to also placing rings on their left ring fingers, in hopes that the appearance of being married would also encourage guys to _back off_. In hindsight maybe _this_ is why Owen thought she was married at first.

(Eventually, Zara wouldn't need to move a ring around, as she wore her engagement ring.)

But it was one night when they were in the midst of their routine, that their booth got invaded by a couple of guys. This wasn't particularly surprising, it happened a fair number of times in the past. But this time, it was Owen who stumbled into their booth, Barry just a couple feet behind him. Apparently neither had been paying enough attention to realize the booth was already occupied, instead having picked up a couple of beers at the bar and automatically headed to their favourite spot. Owen even managed to get as far as sitting down and plopping his beer on the table before he realized they were there.

*********** START FLASHBACK ***********

"Um, excuse me?" Claire poked him in the side and Owen turned to face her, Barry stopping at the edge of the table.

"Hey," Owen greeted her, looking confused. "What are you doing at my table?"

" _You're_ table?! This is our table, we got here first." Claire shook her head.

"Nope," Owen relaxed back in his seat, picking up his drink and taking a long swallow. "This is _our_ table. We're here every Monday night, right Barry?" He turned to his friend, who nodded.

"Well, you're too late tonight, so move it," Claire gave him a light shove. "It's our table tonight."

"Hey!" Owen raised his hands. "There are no other tables left, and this one has the best view of the TV." He waved vaguely in the direction of the large screen hanging over the bar.

"And we should care, why?" Claire asked him. "Mr. Grady?" She was starting to wonder if he even recognized her. She added the _Mr. Grady_ in hopes that he'd clue in, and acknowledge her position.

"We're just here to watch the game, _Ms. Dearing_ ," he replied, emphasizing her name, before again waving towards the TV. He paused, giving her a critical look, "Are you really going to try and play the _boss_ card? Here? At a bar?"

Claire, at least, did look a bit chagrined for a brief moment, before declaring with a smile, "If it'll work, yes."

Owen gave a short chuckle, shaking his head no. "Nope. And it's been a long day, we just want to sit, drink some beers, and watch the game. From _our_ table."

"Again, you'll have to find somewhere else, this is _our_ table tonight," Claire gave him a harder shove this time. After the day she had, she was not wanting or willing to deal with this. Unfortunately, he was built a bit too much like a boulder, planted firmly and not even moving the slightest from the shove.

"And again, we're just here to watch the game. You won't even notice us. You can go back to whatever you're doing. It's not like you need these seats." He motioned to Barry to sit down, who finally did so reluctantly.

"How do you know we don't need those seats? We might have more people joining us," Claire argued back.

"Do you?" Owen tipped back his beer and took a long drink, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"Well," Claire wasn't a great liar. And she knew it. She finally sighed, "No, just us."

"Well, then you don't need them," Owen smiled at her, and then turned to look at Barry, essentially dismissing her. "Did you hear Hoskins-"

"Mr. Grady!" Claire demanded his attention. "We just wanted an evening alone. Preferably without any _men,_ " she practically hissed the last word, the entire day's annoyance and frustration coming through in her tone.

Owen paused from what he was saying to turn and look at her and Zara closely. Eyes taking in that there were already a few empty glasses on the table, and a large shared plate of fries between them. He knew he should probably walk away, and Barry was already moving to exit the booth, but he'd _also_ had a really crappy day. And he'd been looking forward to his evening of sports, beer and venting, and wasn't willing to give it up.

"You're not the only ones who've had a _really_ shitty day," he ended up going with. " _Hoskins,"_ he practically spit out the word, and noticed that both Zara and Claire wince at the name, "was being ... well _Hoskins_. Like I said, all we want it to watch the game, drink our beers and probably vent about _our_ day." He gestured to himself and Barry, "Seriously, us being here won't interrupt your evening at all. You won't even notice we're here."

Claire looked ready to attack, but Zara reached across the table and grabbed her arm. The two of them seemed to have a silent conversation in a few looks, before Claire's shoulders dropped. "Fine." She was actually _pouting_ , which he found both fascinating to see from someone who's impression was all business, all the time, and strangely attractive. His eyes clocked the wedding ring on her hand, as she picked up her drink, and turned slightly in her seat, so that instead of them sitting less side by side, her back was now angled towards him. He shrugged, shared a look with Barry, before going back to his vent on Hoskins.

*********** END FLASHBACK ***********

She hadn't expected that evening to be the start of a friendship, considering she had actually be really annoyed with him for refusing to budge. But, as the evening wore on, and the drinks continued to flow, the four of them slowly went from being two separate groups grudgingly sharing a table, to four co-wokers sharing stories about their collective experiences of interacting with Hoskins and other unsavoury coworkers, past and present.

*********** START FLASHBACK ***********

And as the night drew to a close, she was surprised (and slightly pleased) when Owen grabbed their bill with a quick, "I've got it. Consider it a gift for letting us share your table."

"Ah, so you admit it _was_ our table!" Claire exclaimed.

Owen had the grace to look slightly sheepish, "Well, fine, _tonight_ , it was your table. But normally it's ours."

"We'll take it," Claire nodded, as Owen stood up and she slid out of the booth, Zara and Barry exiting from the other side and the four heading to the door. "And who knows, next week it might be our table again." At Owen's shocked look, she and Zara gave a little laugh and a quick wave, before they headed down Main Street towards the hotel where they both had apartments.

*********** END FLASHBACK ***********

She hadn't even thought about the night the rest of the week, but the following Monday, she found herself and Zara headed back to Sunrio. This time, Owen and Barry had been thinking ahead, and were already seated in their booth. "Tonight it's _our_ booth," Owen gloated at their shocked expressions, but he and Barry quickly shifted over to allow Claire and Zara to join them.

As quickly as it became their _thing_ , the four of them usually meeting up Monday evenings, laughing and joking about work, and half watching whatever game was on, it also ended. The raptors hatched and then were growing quickly, and Owen and Barry's days and evenings were taken over.

But, those few months of Monday evenings had set in motion a friendship the two weren't expecting. Sure, Barry and Zara were part of the original group, but as the Monday get togethers petered out, it was Claire and Owen who found themselves still gravitating towards each other. At first, they'd just see each other semi-regularly when Claire came by the paddock to check in on the progress and collect reports. Occasionally Owen would find himself at her office, pacing in front of her as he vented about his latest interaction with Hoskins and couldn't she _please_ do something.

At some point, she can't even remember _why_ , they ended up exchanging phone numbers which led to exchanging occasional texts. Sometime's he'd pass along a video or picture from his training session, when something went particularly well (or funny), and in return, she'd usually reach out after a particularly good or frustrating encounter, to which he always managed to give a reply that'd make her laugh or smile.

And then one evening, after a particularly bad day at work when Zara hadn't been available for an evening drink and vent session, she had reached out to Owen and the two met up. That evening seemed to be the catalyst of change, as they moved from being "sort of friends" to definitely friends. They didn't have any regular schedule, their lives to busy to implement something consistent, but they found themselves grabbing lunch or dinner when it worked, sometimes out, and sometimes tucked away in one of their places if they wanted to watch a movie as well.

There was never any talk about a relationship, and there was never any awkwardness around each other. Claire had picked up pretty early on that Owen was a bit of a playboy with a "love her and leave her" style, preferring to meet women in bars and have an evening of fun, before moving on. It wasn't Claire's style at all, but she wasn't judging (okay, she was, but she enjoyed his friendship to much and wasn't looking to date him so figured it didn't matter anyway). Owen had realized she wasn't actually married, but the idea of an actual relationship was exhausting, and his last one had ended pretty badly (thus leading to his preferred method of one night stands).

It all came to a head the day she got promoted to Operations Manager. She both was and wasn't expecting the promotion. She'd been working her way up in the company for over 10 years now, and knew that there weren't many positions left she could move up to. She and Simon had been talking about the possibility for months now, but the day he actually offered it was a surprise. It showed how close her friendship with Owen had become, that he was first person she told, excitedly texting him the moment Simon's back was turned for a second and she could do so without being obvious.

That evening Owen, Zara, Barry and a few others that she'd become friends with (okay, may be not quite _friends_ , but she was friendly with), gathered at Sunrio for an impromptu celebration. No surprise, the drinks were flowing pretty steadily. And by the end of the evening, she found herself alone with Owen in their favourite booth, everyone else having already left.

The combination of alcohol raising his courage and lowering his inhibitions resulted in Owen finally asking her out. He'd admit (later), that it wasn't his finest or smoothest moment. She didn't even _realize_ he was asking her on a _date_ at first. But she found herself agreeing.

They didn't end up going home alone that night. Alcohol lowering those inhibitions too, as they crossed way over the line of friendship, spending the night at Owen's "bungalow." The morning had been a little awkward, but they'd managed to laugh it off, Owen driving Claire back to the hotel, where she snuck in and up to her suite like nothing had ever happened. They decided to meet that evening for their date.

It didn't go well.

She wanted it to. She really did. She had left work early in order to get ready, nerves causing her hands to shake, and she redid her make up twice. She hadn't told Zara what was going on, knowing her friend would be excited for her, but not wanting any added pressure. As a calming technique, she had jotted down a list of ideas of what they could do for the evening. Planning, _control_ , always made her feel better.

Afterwards (like after the _incident_ afterwards), she realized he wanted it to go well too. However, the night of the date she would've disagreed.

*********** START FLASHBACK ***********

They met outside the hotel at the planned time. He was already waiting when she came down, which was a point in his favour. But he immediately lost anything he'd gained with being on time, when she took in his outfit. Board shorts and a henley. It's not that she hadn't seen him in board shorts before (he'd often shown up to Sunrio dressed similarly), but this was a _date_.

If the board shorts started them on the wrong foot, her move to show him the notes she'd made was the next mis-step. He laughed. Her cheeks had grown red, and she'd crumpled the paper, shoving it deep into her purse. She thought he _knew_ her.

In the end, they awkwardly ended up back at Sunrio. It should've been comfortable. They'd been there many times before and never had a problem. Apparently labelling the experience as a date just made everything wrong.

Owen, alpha that he is, took over ordering, bringing back shots of tequila. (Again, _later_ , she realized it was a sign of how nervous he was. He'd known he's screwed up with the shorts and laughing at her plans, and he'd been counting on the shots to try to relax them both, and turn things around.)

Claire claimed she was a on a diet, turning up her nose at the drinks, and causing Owen to down them both. At that point, they both seemed to lose control of the evening, neither knowing how to fix it, but neither immediately willing to call it quits. Both had been hoping their friendship would salvage it. Instead, they struggled with conversation, until a couple hours later, both breathing sighs of relief (hidden from the other, of course), they left the bar and parted ways.

*********** END FLASHBACK ***********

They struggled to re-find their footing after the date. Neither quite sure how to act around the other, and both coping in different ways. Claire had chosen to dive deeper into her work, which wasn't hard as the Indominus project was causing all sorts of headaches. Her work kept her busy, and made it easy to avoid Owen.

Owen, trying to clear his mind, ended up back on the main land indulging in a one night stand. If he'd been thinking clearly, he would've _known_ Claire would find out about it. And would've known it was going to be another nail in the potential of a relationship (and maybe in their friendship too). But he hadn't, too upset with himself (and her - he'd expected his _friend_ Claire on the date, and hadn't realized there was a _date_ Claire as well) and it happened. He hadn't _seen_ Claire's reaction when she found out, but he got an earful from Zara (who had managed to pull the story of the date out of Claire, when she'd shown up the day after in a horrible mood).

They were still trying to figure out how to proceed when the _incident_ happened.

In a way, the incident was a good thing, in that it was the catalyst that allowed them to finally get over their awkwardness and uncomfortableness. The shared experience, the heightened emotions, the _kiss_ , led them down the path into a relationship better than anything they could've planned. Probably because they _didn't_ plan it. It just ... happened. The morning of the incident they woke up as (hopefully) still friends. By the time they fell asleep 36 hours later, they maybe weren't a _couple_ , but they definitely were more than friends.

In the end, they never really talked about it, the transition from whatever they were before to essentially moving in with each other (and not as roommates) after. It all just happened, and it felt _natural_. They continued to do everything they had done as friends, but now they had the added bonus of kissing and sex. Of course, they had the downside of nightmares and panic attacks from the incident, but they weren't going through it alone.

The first year after the incident (as they'd taken to calling it), was a blur of meetings, lawyers, reports and courtrooms. InGen and Masrani Corp were working overtime to curtail any damages and sort through settlements.

Owen escaped the mess first (not surprising considering Claire's elevated role in the company). In his spare time, of which there was now plenty, he took to running and escaping to the gym. He found a gym focused on vets, where he found he could blend in anonymously, everyone dealing with _something_. There he could pretend his _something_ was related to his Navy experience, instead of dinosaurs. As time passed, he found he wanted less and less to do with dinosaurs. He felt the only way to move forward was to keep the past behind them.

Claire, on the other hand, found the more meetings she attended, the more she learned about the dinosaurs, the more invested she became. There were protests outside the offices and the courthouse. People demanding protection for the dinosaurs. They'd been essentially abandoned a month after the event.

(There'd been a push immediately to empty the island of anything salvageable. But this had focused on rescuing employee and tourist items from hotels and apartments, scientific equipment, and lab results. It hadn't meant dealing with any of the dinosaurs left, except being prepared to shoot on site any that interrupted their operations.)

One day, on her way home, after _another_ long day of meetings, Claire had her head down, focused on scrolling through the emails on her phone (and therefore not paying enough attention to where she was going), when she slammed into another person, knocking them both down.

In between apologies, and helping each other up, Claire's attention was caught on the protest sign. On one side it said,"We brought them to life. They need our care now." And on the other side, "Paleo Vets for Dinosaurs."

She doesn't exactly know what it was about _that_ sign, but she found herself starting a conversation with the signs owner, which led to the two of them going down the street to a coffeeshop, where over drinks they ended up spending two hours delving into what could be happening on the island right now.

They didn't know it, but that meeting with the start of the Dinosaur Protection Group. The two of them hitting it off like old friends. Zia had, of course, known who Claire was from the start. But for Claire, that discussion was when she finally felt like she knew what she was suppose to do next. How she could _atone_ for what happened. She could help save the dinosaurs. When they two finally parted ways that evening, they exchanged numbers, but didn't plan any specific follow up.

The next morning, however, Claire found herself calling Zia, excited about what she'd decided on doing. She was going form a group to save the dinosaurs, and she wanted Zia to help. With Claire's organization and contacts, it didn't take much to get the ball rolling, and the Dinosaur Protection Group was formed. It felt like the perfect way to use the severance package she received, when her employment with Masrani came to an end.

If only her excitement had transferred over to Owen. She thought he'd love the idea. After all, _Blue_ was still alive and on Isla Nublar. And immediately after the incident, Owen had voiced his concerns and worries many times about how she would survive without her pack.

But it didn't.

The year since the incident had felt long and never ending. And the courtroom drama had weighed him down. Owen wanted a break from dinosaurs. Thinking about dinosaurs meant thinking about Blue. And as much as he loved Blue (and he _does_ ), he also saw how easily she turned on them, and knows that dealing with the dinosaurs is a slippery slope. If they "rescue" them, if they _protect_ them, people are going to want to _see_ them. It feels like the first step down the path to re-opening the park. And it's a step he doesn't want to take.

Their disagreement over how to move on is just the first crack. Owen wants to be surrounded by trees and nature. Claire is happy to be in a city of sky scrapers and 5 star restaurants. On Isla Nublar, their friendship worked so well, because they both had access to their wants, the environment suiting Owen's draw to the outdoors, while Claire had unlimited access to the top notch restaurants of the resort combined with jetting off relatively frequently to major cities around the world for meetings.

Zia and Claire decide on San Francisco for their headquarters, knowing it's the heart of Silicon Valley and full of companies and people with cash to burn. Claire sells it to Owen by focusing on how close it is to so many national parks. That they can find a place near the water.

Owen agrees to the move, but starts to feel like he's the one who's constantly giving in the relationship, while Claire continues to take. He knows that's not fair, but as they look for a place, it quickly becomes apparent that they can't afford a place with a _view_ of the water, much less a place _by_ the water. Not with Owen still out of a job and Claire deciding to lead a non-profit.

Owen talks about how he wants to get out, explore, decompress. He buys an old RV and spends his days fixing it up. He tries to convince her to go exploring with him. He reminds her that she doesn't need to work weekends, they could just take off instead. Head out for unknown places.

Claire wants to drive the van. Owen knows he a chauvinist, but that's not the real reason he doesn't want to hand over the wheel. He knows the moment he hands it over, is the moment it's back to itineraries and _plans_. It's only be maintaining _his_ control over it, that he actually is able to enforce no control over their plans (ironic though it may be). He listens as Claire talks about how they should turn here so they can go see whatever it is that's caught her attention, and usually ignores it. Although, he does give in _sometimes_ , but he still never lets her drive.

They both try to pretend the gap that's growing between them doesn't exist.

The fights start small and are easy to dismiss. They're usually centred around her job. He doesn't like the DPG, doesn't like that she hasn't moved on from the dinosaurs. He hates that he has to think about them and can't let them stay in the past. And she hates not being able to share her work with him.

Other times, they're centred on his need to escape the city, this _life_. Claire always hears an unspoken line of escaping _her_ during these fights, and although she tells herself that's not what he means, she can't quite dismiss the little voice in her head, saying he'd be _happier_ without her.

After some fights, Owen takes off for the day, driving away to hike or fish or just _explore_. Before long, his trips are taking two then three days. He comes back smelling of forest, lakes, dirt, and smoke. His grin is happier than she'd seen since the incident. Claire starts believe that voice in her head, and she worries that staying with her is holding him back. She doesn't know how to let go enough, to stop being a _control freak_ enough, to go with him as he wants. But she doesn't want to let _him_ go either.

It all comes to a head one day. It starts off innocently, Owen telling her about this trail that leads to a hidden lake up a mountain he's heard of. He wants her to come with him. The invite of a simple day hike quickly turning into monologue on how they could then go to this other place, before heading farther east (he's always wanted to see the Grand Canyon). Before she knows it, he's becoming more and more excited and animated, listing places they could see, never settling on a route or plan, just _ideas_. The day hike plan turns into a infinitely long _vacation_ plan (although she doesn't hear vacation, she hears _running away_ ).

She plays along at first, nodding, and agreeing that the places sound great - they _do_ \- trying to get a word in about visiting _cities_ or coming _home_. He's too caught up in what he's saying to really catch on, only grabbing hold of her words about driving the van, which he dismisses with a laugh, "Nope, you relax, I'll drive." He doesn't think he's being dismissive, exactly. He wants it to be a _vacation_ , and he's seen how tense she can get behind the wheel. He's never seen someone yell at other cars as much as she does. Besides, it's just who he is. He drives.

Before they know it, they're screaming at each other. He's yelling that she just needs to let go and she's yelling at him that if he wants to go that bad, he should just _go,_ just _leave_. Eventually he does just that, storming out of their place, barely remembering to grab his wallet and keys on the way out the door.

She looks around, wanting to punch something, _anything_ , almost more frustrated when she can't immediately find something to take her anger out on. She ends up grabbing her coffee mug and throwing it at a wall, and then feeling like she's watching it in slow motion as it arcs through the air, coffee leaving a trail in it's wake, before it crashes and shatters against the wall.

It leaves a dent.

She's not surprised when he doesn't walk back through the door that evening, or even the next day. But four days later she starts to worry. Every time her eyes catch the dent on the wall, she winces. After a week, she's wondering who she can reach out to. Her friends are her coworkers at the DPG, and they're _her_ friends, not Owen's (he hasn't even met half of them). They're not people he's likely to reach out to.

In the end, she turns to her sister for information. It takes her three tries before she can get herself to complete the call. Karen and Owen had hit it off in the aftermath. She knows Karen will be disappointed. She's trying to figure out a way to ask Karen if she (or the boys) had heard from Owen, without having to admit to what happened. But as the conversation drags on, she can't find a way to slip it in. Finally she interrupts Karen in the middle of boasting about Grey, to just _ask_. She _knew_ it would raise suspicions, and it does. Karen immediately saying yes, Zach had shown her a picture Owen had texted him the day before, before immediately following up with a, "Why? What's going on Claire?"

The whole story comes exploding out, like opening a pop can after shaking. She tries to act like it's no big deal. That things will be _ok_ , but even as she's saying it, she finds herself not believing it. "It was too fast," she hears herself say, "I knew he was unhappy."

Karen disagrees, insisting he _was_ happy. That, yes, it was fast, but it _worked_. And it wasn't like they hadn't known each other before hand. They were building on years of friendship.

The conversation finally ends, with Claire dejectedly stating, "I wasn't enough. I can't let go enough. It's probably for the best." She hangs up even as Karen tries to disagree.

Over a month later, and there's a part of her that still expects him to walk through the door each day. He took his keys after all, and he hasn't returned them. Karen makes sure to send her texts every couple of days when she or the boys hear from Owen, letting her know he's still _alive_. Sometimes she passes along a location, but usually it's just a "Owen texted Grey today," type message.

Then one day, a few months after he stormed out the door, Karen adds a new detail. "He's bought some land. It's got a view of a lake and is near the mountains." A few days later an address follows. She looks it up on her phone, and realizes he's east of San Francisco, but north of Yosemite. Google tells her it'll take her 2 hours and 46 minutes if she left now. It's tempting, but she's got meetings and work, and well, even now, _work_ comes first. Besides, _he_ didn't give her the information himself. She doesn't know if he wants her to know. Doesn't know if he'd be happy to have her visit.

A couple of weeks later Karen's text arrives with a picture of a gorgeous view, marred only slightly by the old RV off to one side. It's accompanied with the words: "He's building a cabin."

In way, it's a relief. He's settling down. He's finding roots. He'd talked about building a cabin before. An escape he called it.

The two of them had spent late nights, snuggled together, sated, when he'd bring it up, and they'd talk about features. She hadn't known he was serious. But she'd willing participated. Talking about her dream office and how it would have a large window, preferably with a picturesque view. It was one thing she missed from her days at Jurassic World. The view from her office (and her apartment) were to die for.

She wonders what his cabin will look like. She's sure it'll be mostly open plan, rustic, and homey.

She doesn't even realizes she's doing it, until she finds herself sending him a text one night. It had been a good day at the DPG, she'd managed to snag a few big donors. And she wants to tell him. He's still the first person who comes to mind when she has news to share. Instead, she finds herself writing, "I hear you're building a cabin." The next morning she wakes to a one word response: "Yep."

It takes a couple of weeks more before they start to really exchange texts. Again, she initiates it, "what do you want me do with your mail?" She'd been keeping the small pile of it on the countertop. Not that there was much. And nothing that seemed urgent.

It seemed innocuous when she sends it, but it seems to be the key to re-opening conversation. He replies that he'll come grab it when he's in town next. And she tries not to think too deeply about that (has he been back to SF since he left?). He sends her a picture of a bar a couple of evenings later, with the line, "Reminds me of Sunrio."

They continue to exchange the odd text, until one day he says "I'll be in town on Saturday, I can grab the mail then."

It's late afternoon by the time he makes it to her (their?) place. She's been home all day, not sure when he'd show up, and not wanting to miss him. She's on the deck sipping a beer when he arrives, and she extends the invitation to him. There's a moment where she's sure he's going to turn her down, but he doesn't. One beer, turns into two, three, four. With each beer the conversation flows more easily, their guards dropping. However, neither of them dares mention the word dinosaur.

She's not surprised when they end up in bed together. The bedroom was the one place they'd always been completely compatible. It's just as she remembers, and yet somehow, more, _better_.

She falls asleep, the two of them entwined. She wakes alone.

Again, she's not surprised.

They fall into a routine, where she'll mention something of his that she has. (Mail is used more than once, convenient that it is, in that it keeps coming. She thinks, just once, of telling him he should change his address, but she likes the connection, so she doesn't say anything. And since his mail keeps arriving, he hasn't taken the step on his own.)

He'll show up one evening to collect whatever it is and they'll share a beer. Some days it takes a few, other times just one before they find themselves back in their (her) bedroom. Without fail, he's gone when she wakes up the next morning.

Until one day, he arrives as usual, but she's on the phone. Seismic activity has been recorded on Nublar. There's fears that the volcano, long dormant, is becoming active. He drinks a beer, as usual, but she's still on the phone when he finishes. This time, he's gone before they even make it to the bedroom.

Her work at DPG ramps up dramatically. It's all hands on deck as they move from their usual role of raising awareness (and money) to debating on behalf of the dinosaurs existence. The activity on Nublar is picking up faster than they expected. They know their timeline is short, and that an eruption equals extinction for the dinosaurs left.

But it's not until she's driving out to see Owen after meeting Mills, robotically following the instructions of her phone, that she realizes they haven't talked or exchanged any messages since the night he came by and she was on the phone. It's been six months.

His mail has still been piling up, but so has hers, as she's been busy, so she hasn't even noticed. She thinks she probably should've brought it with her.

The closer she gets to the destination, the more antsy she becomes. Pulling up to his lot, she pauses in the car, wiping her hands on her pants, sweaty with nerves. She checks her hair carefully in the mirror, before stepping out. He hasn't seemed to notice her yet. She can see a small model of the cabin he's building, looking like a dollhouse, with the frame of the actual cabin looming much larger behind. He's up on a ladder, working on the roof.

She walks closer, eyes taking in the landscape, before raising her gaze back to him and calling out, "Owen."


End file.
